


Made a Wrong Turn Once or Twice

by WallFlowerWriter



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Bisexual Character, F/F, Multi, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:32:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallFlowerWriter/pseuds/WallFlowerWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt from Tumblr. </p><p>Harley/Ivy, they run away together and start a new life in Brazil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made a Wrong Turn Once or Twice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Prompt 'Harley and Ivy run off together and start a new life in Brazil'. It sort of became...more than that. I love Harley/Ivy, it's one of my OTPs, and I'm sorry for any OOCness or Joker bashing that happened in this fic. It was Ivy's perspective taking hold. This is kind of an amalgamation of a bunch of different Batman Universes, mainly taking from the comic and from the Animated series. Anyway, enjoy :)

It starts, as it always does, with Harley. Ivy’s not seen the other woman for months, nearing a year, when she hears a knock on the front door of her shack. She’s taken up residence in the forest that surrounded one of the suburbs just outside of Gotham’s city limits, and already rumours were spreading among the neighbourhood children that there was a witch living in the forest. All in all, Ivy was pleased with her new living arrangements. The shack was big enough for her and most of her plants, she was deep enough in the forest that the residents of the nearby town never bothered her, and she was far enough away from Gotham that there was not only a startling amount of fresh air, but also a pleasant lack of bats. Then, one night during the winter, there’s a knock at her door.

At first, she considers ignoring it, turning out the lights and heading down to the basement to check on her new strain of Venus flytrap, but the knocking continues, loud and desperate and somehow …familiar? Rubbing her forehead, she slips her robe over her regular ensemble of leafy lingerie, and heads to the front door. The hammering continues, and Ivy can feel irritation slowly bubbling up in her chest. Who the hell is bothering her at this time of night? She stalks to the door, face already contorted in to a snarl, one fist clenched at her side, the other clawed around the doorknob as she wrenches it open.

“What the hell-” She begins, but cuts herself off, her eyes growing wide. Before her, Harley is stood, her makeup streaked from the rain, her hair still in her trademark dyed pigtails, but she has about three inches of growth at her roots, stringy and without the usual healthy shine that it has. Instead of her normal second skin of red and black leather and latex, she clad in a hugely oversized sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, all cheap looking and all soaked through. This doesn’t look like any Harley Ivy has ever known, not even in the early days of her relationship with Joker, and that takes all the wind out of her like a punch to the gut. Most surprising of all though, is the fact that her hands, with her torn nails and chipped nail polish, are resting on the shoulders of tiny, little girl who’s got a tiny serious frown on her face, who’s shivering from the cold and the rain, and who’s eyes are the same light blue that makes Ivy’s heart jump up in to her throat whenever they’re being aimed at her. Harley gives her a shaky smile.

“H-hey Red.” Her voice shakes from the cold, and maybe nervousness, if the tears in her eyes are anything to go by. That’s not right though, Harley knows she doesn’t have to be nervous around Ivy. She knows that Ivy would never screw her over, unlike certain clowns that could be mentioned. Ivy’s brows furrow as her friend continues. “C-can we stay with you for a little while?” And what is Ivy meant to say to that? She opens her arms and Harley and this tiny child both fall forward and cling to her, their fingers digging in to her back and her hips so tightly that she can almost feel the blood vessels popping beneath her skin. The water dripping from their hair and clothes soaks in to her robe, but she can hardly bring herself to care.

-

One hour and a quick run in to town later, Ivy, Harley and the little girl, who’s called Lucy apparently, are sat on her bed, two of them spooning some form of concentrated sugar masquerading as cereal in to their mouths, while Ivy watches, her fingers tapping out nervous rhythms on the mattress as she waited. Every now and again, Harley looks up and grins at her through a mouthful of cereal. She’s wiped her make-up off on Ivy’s only good towel, and she looks beautiful, as always, even with that black eye and the hand shaped bruises on her neck. Lucy is looking at her when she thinks Ivy isn’t looking, but she can see her from the corner of her eye and the more she looks, the more similarities she sees between her friend and this child.

There had been rumours, of course. You can’t disappear for over a year and expect there not to be. One of the rumours had been that Joker had knocked Harley up and she’d been sent off to have the kid somewhere private, but Ivy had believed that even less than she’d believed that Joker had finally offed her. She had hoped that Harley had finally gotten wise and left the clown for good. Gone on to pursue a normal life again. But Harley had reappeared and no one had ever found out where she’d gone. Ivy had asked once, but Harl had gone frighteningly silent, sombre even, and shrugged at the mention of her missing year. Ivy hadn’t asked again. But now… Now she knows where Harl had been. And now she needs to find out why she’s here.

“Harley.” At her tone, both Lucy and her mother look up, both with a strange wide-eyed innocence that Harley, at damn near 37 years old, should not possess. The expression on her face must be something fierce though, because Harl gulps audibly, reaches over and strokes Lucy’s cheek, letting out a quiet murmur of reassurance as she bounces up. Ivy grabs her arm and marches her to the basement. Once down there, she leans against the wall, her arms folded as she stares at her friend. Harley stares back, eyes still wide. Finally Ivy sighs. “Harley, what’s going on?” The blonde woman’s lower lip begins to wobble as her eyes fill with tears.

“Oh Red!” She cries, launching herself into her taller friend’s arms. “Red, I really messed up this time! I told Mr J about Lucy and he, he, he wants her dead, Pam! He wanted to kill our baby, and, and I- I couldn’t let him, I told him so and he, he tried to kill me.” Her hysterics die down as she speaks the last sentence, her fingers going up to rub the bruise on her throat. Ivy reaches out and takes her hand. Harley looks at her and begins to cry softly. “He really tried to kill me, Pammie. No jokes or nothin’. He was gonna knock me off and then go after Lucy. He didn’t even have a reason; he just thought it’d be funny.” Ivy strokes Harley’s hair gently, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She desperately wants to say something, to tell her that she told her so, that she’d always known that the clown was going to do something like this, but she knows that Harley can’t hear anything like that right now. But there is something she needs to know.

“Harley, this isn’t one of those things where he hurts you and you say you’re going to leave him, and you stay away for three weeks, but end up going back to, him is it?” Harley shakes her head, pigtails whipping around her face with the force of her shaking.

“No way, Pam-A-Lamb, I’m done with him, for good this time. I love him, but I love Lucy more. She’s my baby, you know? I gotta do what’s right and protect her, even if it means I gotta leave my Puddin’ for good, then OK, that’s what I gotta do. And, sure, it’ll be hard, and it might drive me a little crazy…” At Ivy’s raised eyebrow, Harley shrugs. “OK, a little crazier. But, if that’s what I gotta do to keep my baby safe, then I will.” Ivy blinks, drawing back to look at her.

“Wow, Harl, that’s really…This doesn’t sound like you. Is this like that time that everyone got replaced by aliens?” This prompts a giggle and Harl smiles up at her.

“Nah, they wouldn’t even know about Lucy. Nobody ‘cept me and my sister knew. Well, and Mr J now. And you, I guess.” Ivy lets out a tiny chuckle.

“Yeah, and me, I guess. So if you’re not going back to him, what are you going to do?” Harley pulled away from her, chewing on her lower lip.

“I ain’t really sure yet. I just knew I had to get Lucy away from my sister’s place and to somewhere that Mr J couldn’t ever find her. And I wasn’t sure where that would be, but I knew you’d keep us safe, Pam. Well, I mean, I hoped you would. You will won’tcha?” Ivy smiled, pulling Harley closer to her and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Of course Harl. You know I’d do anything for you. You and Lucy can stay here for as long as you like.” She paused, tapping her index finger against her lower lip. “She’ll need her shots though, just like you got when you first started staying me.” Harley groans.

“Aw, Pammie, she’s 6! She doesn’t want shots.” Ivy can feel a smile playing at her lips, but she tries her hardest to keep her expression stern. “Well, she needs them, my work is dangerous for humans that aren’t immunised Harl.” The clown woman sighs, but nods despite her obvious distaste for the idea. “Great. I can get them done tonight before she goes to bed. Speaking of bed, you two can have my bed and I’ll sleep down here with my babies.” Harley’s brows furrow at this and she snuggles closer to the plant woman before her.

“We can share a bed, Pam. Lucy knows that you’re my _special friend_.” She whispers the last part, winking conspiratorially. Rolling her eyes, Ivy leans forward and plants a light kiss on Harley’s lips. Harley’s arms snake around her neck, trying to pull her closer, to deepen their kiss, but Ivy pulls away, leaving the blonde whimpering at the loss.

“The fact that we have an on-again-off-again relationship isn’t the issue, Harl, although we can discuss that later. The issue is that you just took your daughter from the only home she’s ever known and brought her in to a complete stranger’s home, and said stranger is a half plant hybrid woman. Do you not think that it might be worth staving off the bed sharing until Lucy gets used to me? She seemed a little wary earlier.” Harley let out a little indignant huff.

“Well, wouldn’t you be wary if you found out your dad wanted you dead?”

“You told her? Harl, she’s 6!” Harley pulls away from her and crosses her arms, pouting sulkily.

“Of course I told her! I couldn’t just turn up and take her away from my sister’s with no explanation! And besides, I don’t believe in lying to kids, it messes ‘em up, you know?” Ivy could feel the veins in her forehead pulsing.

“Uh-huh. Because telling your 6 year old that her father wants her dead can’t possibly have any bad effect on her.” She offers sardonically. Harl glares at her, arms still crossed. But the glare disappears as quickly as it came, replaced by a delighted grin.

“Aw, Pammie, look at us, arguing about parenting techniques already! You’re gonna be a great mom, I can tell!” Ivy takes the shorter woman’s face in her hands and forces her to look her in the eye.

“Harley, let’s get one thing straight. As much as I love you and consider you to be” She pauses, thinking of how to word the next part “tolerable, as humans go, I am not going to co-parent your daughter with you. Got it?” Harley pulls away and crosses her arms again, staring at her shoes, a worn pair of combat boots. Immediately Ivy can feel guilt settling in her stomach (God, doesn’t she sometimes hate how human Harley makes her feel) but she stomps it down. It doesn’t do to send mixed messages with Harley. She tends to just go with the message that she likes the most, even if it isn’t the one that will realistically happen. “Got it?” She repeats when Harl doesn’t answer.

“Yeah.” Comes the sullen reply. Then, equally sullenly, “I better get Lucy ready for bed. It’s late and we’ve had a long day.” Ivy nods and points up to the tiny bathroom that she’s suddenly really relieved that she didn’t rip out to make more room for her plants. Harley heads up to get Lucy washed and ready for bed, hands in pockets, shoulders slumped, while Ivy quickly searches through all the cases in her lab, looking for her serum.

It is, of course, in the case that is right under her desk, against the wall, meaning she has to climb right under and reach for it. Which is how Harley and Lucy come down the stairs to the sight of Pam’s rear end, stuck straight up in the air like a dog in heat. “Gee Pammie, I knew you were happy to see me again, but can’t it wait ‘til Lucy’s gone to bed?” Ivy bangs her head as she hurries out from beneath the desk, ready to reprimand Harley for making a joke like that in front of her daughter, but when she turns around she is met with an unexpectedly sweet sight. Lucy is asleep in her mother’s arms, head resting on her shoulder, a ratty toy monkey clutched in one hand, the other fisted in her mother’s sweatshirt. “She fell asleep while I was towelling her dry.” Harley explained, stepping closer, before biting her lip. “Does she really need a shot now, Red? Can’t it wait til morning?” Ivy shrugs helplessly as she answers.

“Harl, she needs the shot as soon as possible. My babies can sense the serum in your bodies, and they’re much friendlier if you’ve had it done. You don’t want her getting attacked by my babies, do you?” Harley’s eyes widen as she shakes her head vigourously. “And besides,” Ivy continues “I’m called Poison Ivy for a reason. Prolonged contact with me without the serum could be fatal.” Harley clutches Lucy closer to her, fingernails digging in to the little pink nightshirt, almost certainly making little crescent shaped indents in her daughter’s flesh. As if to protest, Lucy shifts in her mother’s arms and murmurs something unintelligible. Ivy feels a smile rising to her lips, but crushes it quickly. No. No way is she letting this child wrap her around her little finger, just like her mother. Not going to happen. Lucy yawns then, rubbing at her eyes with the hand that had been holding on to her mother. It is possibly one of the cutest things Ivy has ever seen in her entire life. She wants to slap herself.Harley settles Lucy on Ivy’s desk, carefully avoiding all the beakers, test tubes and plant pots that have been meticulously placed there.

“OK baby, Auntie Pam’s gonna give you a little shot now, just to make sure that you’re good to stay here for a while cos there’s something in the air that’s not all that great for you.” Lucy looks between them, that same tiny, serious frown from earlier reappearing on her face.

“But I don’t want a shot, Mommy. I already got my shots at the Doctor last October. I remember cos he gave me a lollipop. A red one cos I said it was my favourite.” Harley reaches over and strokes her daughter’s hair, and Ivy notices that it is the exact same shade of blonde as her mother’s used to be.

“Well, honey, how ‘bout this: You be a good girl for me an’ Auntie Pam and get your shot tonight and tomorrow I’ll getcha a red lollipop. How’s that sound?” Lucy’s bright, blue eyes narrow as she considers them both suspiciously. Finally, she nods once, and sticks out her arm, scrunching up her eyes and turning her head away from Ivy. This time, the red head can’t stop her smile and Harley giggles. She reaches out and takes her daughter’s hand. “Hey, you know what sweetie?”

“What?” Lucy asks without opening her eyes. Harley leans in conspiratorially. “Red’s my favourite colour too.” Lucy’s eyes fly open and her mouth drops in surprise. Beside her, Ivy chuckles quietly as she searches for a viable vein.

“Really?” The little girl squeaks excitedly, clearly delighted to have something in common with her mother. Harley nods, equally excited.

“Yeah, it has been since I was little. I like reds like your Auntie Pam’s hair. It’s such a pretty colour, ya see?” Lucy chances a look at Ivy, but turns away quickly when she catches the other woman’s eye.

“It’s very pretty. Curly likes it.” Ivy looks up, brows furrowed, but Harley catches her eye and mouths ‘The monkey’. Ivy nods in comprehension.

“That’s a good name.” She says, swabbing a small area of Lucy’s upper arm with alcohol. Lucy’s eyes flick to her, but flick away quickly. She chews her lower lip and looks startlingly like her mother.

“Thank you.” She murmurs shyly, looking back at Ivy through a curtain a hair. “I heard it on one of the DVDs Mommy sent me.” Ivy feels her eyebrow raise almost independently.

“The Three Stooges, by any chance?” Lucy nods enthusiastically and Ivy nods back. The Three Stooges. Of course Harley sent her daughter DVDs of the Three Stooges. That was such a Harley thing to do that Ivy almost laughed. But she’s soon distracted by the way Lucy is looking at her, seemingly emboldened by their short conversation. The girl’s curious eyes are fixed on her face.

“You’re real pretty.” A little taken aback, Ivy blinks.

“Um, thanks. That’s very nice of you. Now, um, squeeze your mommy’s hand and look away for a second. It’ll sting a little.” Lucy does as she’s told, her eyes squeezing tightly shut, her fingers clamping around her mother’s. She cries out when Ivy injects her, and Harley grunts in pain when Lucy squeezes her hand even tighter. But it’s over in a moment, and as soon as the needle’s out of her arm, Harley’s picking Lucy up and twirling her around through the air.  
“Aw, Honey, you were so brave, I’m so proud, I really am!” Ivy finds herself smiling as the mother and daughter dance around her lab, giggling.  
‘They’re adorable.’ She thinks. And then she thinks ‘Aw crap. I’m gonna end up being Mama Pam, aren’t I?’

-

That night, Harley and Lucy take Ivy’s bed, and lie with Harley’s body curled around her daughter protectively. Ivy watches them sleep for a few minutes, then sighs and heads down to her lab to spend the night with her babies. She doesn’t even really need to sleep anyway, what with being part plant and all, so it doesn’t bother her all that much. The next night, however, she is even less bothered when Harley and Lucy insist that she spends the night in her bed, her body wrapped around Harley’s while Harley curls herself around Lucy. In fact, as she drifts off to sleep, she thinks maybe she could handle being Mama Pam if she gets to sleep next to Harley like this every night.

-

She takes it back three weeks later, when she realises that Harley has redecorated her home without her even noticing. Her queen-sized bed has been replaced by something huge and monstrous with a huge mattress that all three of them sink right in to. Her tiny living room-slash-dining room-slash-kitchen is stuffed with what she considers to be useless appliances and throws and cushions, and of course Harley has chosen to decorate with their favourite colours (well, Ivy’s favourite colour is actually blue, but she’s not going to tell Harley that when she’s tried so _hard_ to include Pam in her family weirdness), so the entire house looks like a Christmas discount store. Well, the entire house aside from her towels, which are now pink.

“That” Harley later admits “was an accident, and it is completely on me. I left my thong in the washer.” After she gets a first-hand look at said thong though, Ivy can’t really bring herself to care. And besides, Harley replaces the towels after a few months.

The fact that her pantry is filled with disgusting, sugary snacks and there is meat in her refrigerator, however, cannot be overlooked.  
They have a huge fight, their first one since Harley had arrived, and Lucy spends the evening cowering in the lab (she’s taken a liking to the Venus Fly Trap that Ivy had been modifying when she’d arrived, and often spends her time in the lab with Ivy colouring next to her new best friend), until Ivy heads down and picks her up and carries her to bed. The girl had fallen asleep under her desk. Ivy places her on the bed and draws the blankets up around her. She sits beside her and strokes her hair, letting out a soft sigh. Harley emerges from the bathroom, her eyes downcast, her body language screaming submission. When Ivy stands up and walks towards her, she flinches away and Ivy feels her heart break a little for the woman before her.

“Harley.” The blonde doesn’t look up. “Harley. Harley. I’m not going to hurt you. Harley, I’d never hurt you. You know that.” Harley looks up at her, eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, and what little make-up she’s wearing these days is smudged and has run down her cheeks. She sniffles.  
“I know that, Red, I do, but I just…”  
“It reminded you of him, didn’t it?” Harley lets out a tiny, hiccupped sob as she nods. Ivy nods slowly along with her. She reaches out and gently touches Harley’s slim wrist, and Harl just…collapses in to her arms. She cries hard in to Ivy’s shirt and it wakes Lucy up, but the little girl doesn’t seem too concerned. She sits up and wraps her arms around her mother, pressing her face in to Harley’s back. It doesn’t help. If anything, Harley just cries harder. Ivy alternates between stroking Harley’s hair and making soft, soothing noises beneath her breath. She doesn’t know if she’s missing the clown or if she’s finally realising exactly what she’s been through in the past 12 years, and, honestly, Ivy’s not sure she wants to know, but she also knows she needs to ask. Luckily she doesn’t have to. In between her sobs, Harley manages to get a few scant words out.  
“I th-thought he l-l-loved me, I th-thought h-he was ju-just showing m-me his l-love! H-he was pl-playing me, R-Red, the whole t-time! And everyone c-could s-see it except m-m-me! H-he th-threw me out a w-window a-and I st-still w-went back to hiiim!” She wails the last word, and Lucy jumps back, her eyes wide and frightened. Ivy reaches across and gives her hand a squeeze in reassurance. In that moment, Lucy’s little face hardens in determination. She gets off the bed and runs off in to the next room. Ivy lets out a quiet sigh of relief; this conversation will be far easier if Lucy isn’t around to hear it.

“Harl, look at me.” Harley does and Ivy feels sick. It’s like being punched by the Bat when he’s in a rage, her guts seem to fall to the ground and her head spins, and suddenly she’s consumed by an almighty rage that someone, anyone, but especially that awful, evil clown could make Harley look so defeated and broken and just…wrong. Harley isn’t supposed to look broken. She’s supposed to look happy and healthy and full of life and if she didn’t know before, Ivy knows now that she hates the Joker more than she has ever hated anyone in her entire life. “Harl, he’s a bastard. He didn’t deserve you, and yeah, OK, he did play you, he played you from day one, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. OK, you did a lot of things that do make you a bad person, but I want you to take a step back from this. I want you to look at this from a psychiatrist’s point of view, OK? Because I know for a fact that you were a good psychiatrist, a great psychiatrist in fact. So I want you to look at this from a psychiatrist’s point of view. What would you tell a woman who came to you after 12 years and described a relationship like you had with the Joker, what would you tell her?” Harley pauses for a moment, her face going blank as she thinks. As she does, Lucy reappears from the dining room, Curly in her hand, and climbs on to the bed beside her mother. 

“Mommy.” She says softly, and Harley’s head snaps up to look at her. Lucy holds out the stuffed monkey. “I think you should have Curly tonight, Mommy. He always makes me feel better when I’m sad.” She gives her mother the sweetest smile Ivy has ever seen, and Harley returns it as best she can.  
“Thank you baby. That’s really nice of ya.” Harley takes the toy carefully and hugs it to her chest. Then she reaches out and does the same to her daughter. Ivy wraps her arms around the younger woman from behind, and Harley relaxes in to her embrace.

They stay like that for a while, pressed against one another, until Harley sniffles and says “It’s late, we should all be sleepin’ now. C’mon girls, cuddle-puddle time.” They climb under the blankets, Lucy between them, each of her arms slung over their shoulders. As is their ritual, Lucy says goodnight first.  
“Goodnight Mommy. Goodnight Auntie Pammie. I love you. See you in the morning.”  
“Goodnight Lucy-loo, I love you too, sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite.” Says Harley, which prompts giggles from the child.  
“Goodnight, my little flower bud, sleep well, I’ll see you in the morning.” Lucy smiles at Ivy’s nickname for her and closes her eyes, drifting off within a few minutes. After a few minutes of soft, steady breathing, just as Ivy is beginning to drift off, Harley whispers into the darkness.  
“Pam?”  
“Mhm?” Ivy yawns out her reply, opening her eyes to see Harley staring at her in the lamplight.  
“I thought about what you said Pam, about looking at it from a psychiatrist’s point’a view?” Ivy nods, her eyes fixed on Harley’s gorgeous baby blues. “I think I know what I’d say.” “Oh yeah? What’s that Harl?” Harl brings a finger to her lips and begins biting her nail. Ivy makes a mental note to pick up some anti-nail biting cream when she next heads in to town. She doesn’t know when the blonde developed this habit, but she is certain that she won’t allow it to continue. “I think,” Harley begins, and then pauses to chew on her nail a little more. “I think I would tell my patient that it sounded like they were suffering from a case of Battered Person Syndrome, and possibly from the effects of long-term exposure to emotional abuse. I would tell them that their partner was an unrepentant, manipulative psychopath with no regard for human life, who took advantage of someone’s curiosity and inexperience and used it to mould them in to the perfect little slave. I would tell them that it wasn’t their fault that they did so many bad things, and that any court of law would understand. I would tell them that they were worth more than what their partner made of them, and I would tell them that they were a good person, and that they deserve so much more.” When her voice begins to crack Ivy reaches out and begins to stroke her back. Harley continues, although she is openly crying in to her pillow. “I would tell them that they deserve someone who loves them and who cares about them and who will always be there for them. I…deserve someone who loves me. I deserve someone who cares about me. I deserve someone who will always be there for me. Because I have worth. Because I matter.” Ivy lets her cry in to the pillow, just watching her as she revels in her newfound self-belief for a little while. She’s still rubbing small circles on her back. Harley still has Curly clutched to her chest like a lifeline. Finally Ivy sits up and slips over to Harley’s side of the bed. She settles down behind her and slips her arms around her waist.

“No matter what happens Harl, no matter where we go, or what we do, you will always matter to me. Whether you are my friend or my girlfriend or my partner in crime, you will always matter to me.” Ivy punctuates each word with a soft kiss to her back, and Harley lets out a soft sniffle, then giggles, turning so she can cuddle up to the redhead properly.  
“Aw, Red. You’ll always matter to me too.” She presses a chaste kiss to Ivy’s lips. Then she pulls away and stares at her for a moment, before her face splits in to a giant grin. “Hey, you called me your friend! And you’re girlfriend!” Ivy cringes, but nods anyway.  
“Yes, I suppose if I have to use labels, I might as well use ones that humans approve of. I could hardly call you my stigma or my ovule, could I?” Harley’s face scrunches up.  
“Ew, please don’t.” Ivy giggles.  
“Alright then. Girlfriend will have to do, I suppose.” Harl cocks her head to one side.  
“Red, I love ya, but we really gotta work on your jokes, ‘kay?” Ivy just plants a kiss on her and rests her head on her shoulder.  
When they fall asleep, it’s one of the most fitful sleeps either of them has had in years. Even when Lucy wakes them up by jumping on them at six thirty the next morning.

-

Six months after Harley and Lucy move in, they hear the news that Joker has left Gotham. Selina calls and tells them. How she got their number, Ivy will never know but she suspects it has something to do with Harley’s bi-weekly phone calls to the Nigma Detective Agencies.  
“Goddamn Riddler.” She mutters to herself when she hears Selina’s voice at the other end of the phone. Then, in her most scornful voice, she says “And what can I do for you, Cat?” She can feel Selina rolling her eyes on the other end of the phone.  
“Joker’s gone. There’s a rumour going round that he’s looking for Harley and the kid.” It’s the middle of summer, but Ivy is chilled to the bone. “Ivy? Ivy, are you still there?” She swallows audibly.  
“Selina, do you think he knows?” There’s an uncomfortable shift at the other end of the phone that is answer enough, but Selina speaks anyway.  
“He went to Eddie. Tortured him, you know what he’s like. Eddie’s in hospital right now, he had to have surgery.” Again, Ivy goes cold.  
“Is he-”  
“He’ll live. But he gave Joker your phone number. If he knows how to track it, he could already be on his way, Ivy you have to go, now.” Selina hangs up before Ivy can thank her. She wonders for a moment if she could take the Joker by herself, they do live in a forest after all. She quickly decides against it though, too many variables, too many chances for Harley and Lucy to get hurt. Plus Joker would likely bring henchmen and thugs to do most of his dirty work, and Ivy’s out of practice when it comes to taking out multiple opponents. 

With this in mind, she runs through to the bedroom, where Harley and Lucy are watching cartoons, and says “Pack what you can quickly, we need to go now.” Both of the blondes look up, confused, but something clicks in Harley’s eyes after a moment.  
“He’s coming, isn’t he?” Ivy nods once and Harley stands and calmly makes her way to the bathroom. Lucy looks to Ivy.  
“Who’s coming, Auntie Pammie?” She more confident now, her voice strong and clear instead of the frightened whisper it was when she first arrived. She’s also smart as a whip, so Ivy knows she already has an idea of who’s coming.  
“Your Mommy’s ex.” They have never called Joker her father, not since the day they arrived. Lucy nods solemnly, and gets to work pulling out the suitcases from beneath the bed. Ivy helps her, stomach a ball of nerves. Once all three of the suitcases are out, they set to work dumping their clothes and anything else they think they will need in them. Harley remerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, pale and shaking, but with three passports and about six thousand dollars clutched to her chest. Ivy doesn’t even question it.

-

Once they have packed everything they can, and Ivy has said goodbye to her babies that don’t fit in the cases (she will cry later for them, once they are safe, she promises herself), they head to the airport in the old Honda that Harley had arrived in months earlier. They’ve changed the plates and spray painted it from red to yellow since then, so Ivy’s almost certain that no one will recognise them. It helps that they invested in some high quality wigs a few months ago. Admittedly, there’s no way to hide her complexion, what with being green and all, but with all the metas that are running around these days, she figures she’s not that noticeable. They dump the car a mile from the airport and walk the rest. No suspicious cars pass them on the way, and Lucy is quite happily chatting to her mother about the episode of Looney Tunes that they were watching before they had made their hurried departure. She doesn’t seem to care that Harley’s only half listening. Every day she becomes more and more like her mother, and Ivy is so glad for it. She hates to think of Lucy growing up with her aunt and becoming a normal, boring, stupid person. Lucy should be like Harley, bright and bouncy and a splash of colour in an otherwise dreary world. Ivy will do everything in her power to make sure Lucy is able to grow up like that.

They reach the airport and it is quiet (not that that’s unusual, considering that it’s a small airport and summer vacations haven’t quite begun yet). They stare up at the departure board and Ivy turns to Harley.  
“Where do you wanna go?” Harley tilts her head from one side to the other, examining the board until her eyes light up.  
“Brasilia. Let’s go to Brasilia. We can find someplace outta the city near to the forests for you, but within driving distance to the beach for me, and someplace with good schools for Lucy.” Behind them, Lucy, who had been playing with a toy car, groaned. “Groan all you like, hun, you’re still going.” Ivy tries and fails to hide her smirk. The war between Harley and Lucy about going to school is on-going, but they all know how it will end. Apparently in a Brazilian school. Something strikes Ivy suddenly.  
“Harl, we don’t know Portuguese.” Harl grins sheepishly.  
“Actually, Eddie turned me on to this really cool website where you can learn languages for free and me and Lucy have been learnin’ for a while, ain’t we honey?” Lucy nods absently, most of her attention focused back on the car. Ivy sighs, blowing the fringe of the wig off her forehead momentarily.  
“Alright, Brasilia it is. Let’s go get our tickets.” Lucy and Harley cheer as they go, bounding ahead. Ivy walks behind them, shaking her head, but smiling nonetheless.

-

On the plane, Harley takes her hand.  
“You OK there, Mrs Pepper?” Ivy raises an eyebrow delicately behind her sunglasses, still not impressed with Harley’s choice of fake names for them.  
“Ivy Pepper? Really?” she mutters, low enough that only Harley, sat directly beside her, can hear.  
“I think it’s cute.” She offers, shrugging.  
“Well, you’re wrong.” Ivy tells her, but she’s still smiling.  
“Aw, c’mon Mrs Pepper. Aren’tcha happy to be starting a new life with your beautiful wife and daughter?” Ivy looks at Harley, who is grinning at her, eyes sparkling, to Lucy who is staring out the window, captivated by the goings on of the airport. She feels her smile widen in to a grin.  
“You know what, Mrs Pepper? I really, really am.”

**Author's Note:**

> This.Is.So.Long. It took me so long to write, my brain is just mush. Again, sorry for any OOCness and character-bashing, I haven't written much Batman, so I'm still getting a feel for it. 
> 
> If you'd like to send me a prompt, you can find me at:  
> http://thewallflowerwriter.tumblr.com/


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